Poet
by Reichenfallen
Summary: It was Mary who first gave John the idea to write up all of his and Sherlock's cases as a book. At first John is hesitant but soon he embarks upon the adventure returning to old haunts and recounting old tales with the help of Mrs Hudson, Mycroft, Lestrade and Molly and soon John comes to realise maybe he cared for Sherlock more than he thought. Post Reichenbach AU.


**A/N: I've been sitting on this idea for a long,****_long_**** time (unfortunately up until now time and writers block prevented me from writing it) after being inspired by the lyrics of the Bastille song Poet which goes: **

** "I have written you down **

**Now you will live forever**

**And all the world will read you**

**And you will live forever**

**In eyes not yet created **

**On tongues that are not born**

**I have written you down now, **

**You will live forever"**

**As always the characters and some of the plots in this do not belong to me but to the wonderful Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and in their current incarnation to the BBC and it's writers I have just taken them and plonked them into this story as well as taken some of ACD's stories and interpreted them into modern London. Also I apologise for mistakes as I do not have a Beta (anyone who'd be up for the job will get much love) **

**Any way I really hope you enjoy and I'm very sorry in advance for the angst! x**

* * *

"You know you really should write up all those cases John" Mary said, wiping a tear away which had escaped from her eye during Angelo's particularly entertaining telling of John and Sherlock's first 'date' right there in that very restaurant.

"I don't know Mary, it's still hard even thinking about it, about him"

"You do it with me and you tell them so beautifully" Mary responded reaching out and clasping John's hand which lay on the table.

"With you it's different, you understand. Everyone else, they still believe he's a liar, a fraud. Sometimes I don't believe they deserve the truth"

"Not everyone thinks that way John and I'm sure a lot more would come around once they heard your stories, once they read about the side that you saw. The more human side."

"Look I've got to dash, I've got a shift at the practice but I tell you what, I'll think about it and let you know."

Mary smiled up at him as he rose from the table. "That's all I ask, I'll see you soon?"

"Yeah Thursday remember" John replied, quickly kissing her on the cheek.

"Thursday" Mary nodded and with that John exited Angelos.

It's a sunny day, one of the first of the year, and John smiles to himself on the way to work. He was already looking forward to seeing Mary again on Thursday. Most people thought they were an item, funny how they kept getting that wrong, but really they were just very good friends. Mary was one of the few people who understood him, well sort of, what with her being a widower.

* * *

_John first noticed her a few months after Sherlock's death when he went to go and give him his regular update, something most people thought stupid, and although John knew Sherlock would probably agree he found it comforting. Mary's husbands grave wasn't far from Sherlock's and so John noticed and was able to help when she dropped her bag, scattering pages which the wind then picked up and attempted to spread across the graveyard. After some time picking up all the papers they went to a nearby cafe. They sat there for quite some time talking about themselves and John found out she was a teacher at a nearby primary school, in fact the papers which had nearly been spread and lost throughout the graveyard had been homework from her students so she was extra grateful for John's help. He also found out that she and her husband had been married for 7 years before he passed away and had been childhood sweethearts._

_"What about you?" Mary had asked "How long were you and Sherlock together?"_

_"Oh not very long" John replied "Just eighteen months"_

_Mary's eyes teared up "Oh I'm so sorry, that must have been awful, the relationship so new"_

_John realised his mistake at that point and his ears turned pink as he stuttered "Oh no, no, no" he raised his hands and gave a little laugh "Why do people always assume we were a couple" he mumbled more to himself than to Mary._

_Mary laughed along with him, clearly slightly embarrassed by her mistake. "By the way, sorry you don't have to answer if you don't want to but, Sherlock, I don't suppose you mean Sherlock Holmes the detective by any chance do you?_

_John felt a lump in his throat 'here we go' he thought to himself. 'Another person who thinks Sherlock was a fraud and that I'm delusional.' _

_John nodded his head and looked down at the table not wanting to see the look of pity that wold surely appear in Mary's eyes once she realised. The look that everyone who didn't know Sherlock gave him. The look that said. You poor, delusional idiot, you trusted him and now not only does it turn out he's a fraud but he's also dead. "Ye-Yeah that's him. The one and only"_

_Instead Mary did something which surprised John and which secured their friendship. She reached across the table to where his hand lay next to his empty mug and gave it a quick, reassuring squeeze before moving her hand back to her own side of the table. John looked up, a surprised look on his face. Mary did have pity in her eyes, but not the kind everyone else had, it was the look of someone who knew how it felt to loose a loved one and that along with the words she spoke next helped John to finally open up. _

_"I'm sorry John, I followed your blog and the stories in the papers, before they turned on him that is. He was a great man" _

* * *

After work that day John went to visit Sherlock's grave. It was still fairly warm outside but the sun was setting and a faint wind had started to pick up hinting that the night was going to be a cold one. John pulled his coat tighter around himself and wrapped the scarf, Sherlock's scarf which Mycroft had bequeathed to him, around his neck.

"Hey Sherlock" he said, placing the small bouquet down next to the headstone, he knew Sherlock would consider the flowers unnecessary but apart from himself only Mycroft, Mrs Hudson and Lestrade visited the grave on any basis. Lestrade and Mrs Hudson didn't visit very often and John didn't imagine Mycroft would be the sentimental sort to leave flowers and John hated to think of Sherlock's grave being bare and without signs that the great man was loved.

John placed his hand on the black marble. "So er, what's new? Let's see. Well I'm talking to Lestrade again, you probably saw that one coming though didn't you. He said he's going to try and clear your name although god knows how long that'll take. Personally I'm hoping someone with a 'minor position in the British government' may step in and lend a hand."

John moved to sit down with his back pressed against the headstone, stretching his legs out and getting comfortable. "Hmm what else? Well Mycroft I found out recently has been paying Mrs Hudson to keep 221B empty, not that I think she'd rent it out again anyway, still rather silly given the prime location it's in and the amount of people who would like to live in London. Personally I think they both hope I'll return. I can't though Sherlock, I just.. it's so empty without you and yet at the same time I see you everywhere. In the scuffs on the kitchen table, in the soot stains on the ceiling from the bloody experiments, in your stuff lying around the living room, seriously how does one person collect so much rubbish? We must have given and thrown away 10 rubbish bags of stuff and yet the place is still swimming in books and papers, not to forget your bloody experiments every now and then I hear from Mrs Hudson saying she's found another beaker or petri dish of some long forgotten experiment, if you could come back just to tell us all the ones we've missed it'd be much appreciated. I'm starting to fear for that poor woman's life"

John cleared his throat and pulled his jacket tighter around himself again, the sun was setting quickly and it would become dark soon. The wind which had been faint not long ago was starting to pick up more, whipping around the cemetery. "Anyway I'm getting off topic. What I really came here to talk to you about was, well, Mary had an idea and I wanted your opinion. I know what you'd say. John I'm dead and a rock with my name engraved on it isn't going to give you any of the answers you're looking for and if you expect them then you are sentimental and a fool" John chuckled to himself slightly which received a few odd looks from a few old ladies a couple of rows in front of him. "Just bear with me alright. Mary had the idea that I should write up our cases in more detail and those ones I never did into a book, or perhaps a series of books. Again I know what you'd say, Dear god please don't inflict that romanticised drivel on more of the world, but I think it'd be good. It'd give more people an insight into what you were really like, the human side that I saw and that can't be a bad thing surely?"

"Anyway It's getting dark and I have an early shift at the practice tomorrow. I'm seeing Mary on Thursday and telling her my decision then, although I'm sure you can probably already guess. I'll come by after and let you know what I've decided." With that John Watson stood up and with one last pat of Sherlock's headstone he turned on his heel and exited the cemetery.

* * *

**A/N: I really hope you've enjoyed this first Chapter guys. Took months of agonising and re-writing until this evening when I finally got a brain wave and wrote it all in one, so yeah if there's any mistakes that'll be why. **

**I have large chunks of this story already set in my mind but there are some parts such as taking some of Arthur Conan Doyle's stories and transferring them into believable 21st century cases, that may take some time. Also it depends a lot on Uni, at the moment I'm lucky and my next assignment isn't due til March plus I'm on half term but I don't know how crazy it'll be once I go back, specially seeing as I have several big group projects coming up. **

**Anyway let me know what you thought of this first Chapter. Reviewers get much love **

**x**


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